


Snake Oil

by orphan_account



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Freak Show
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, Homelessness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2014-11-28
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:32:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2670497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A down-on-her-luck Maggie receives a job offer from Stanley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snake Oil

Maggie knew that she was wearing out her welcome at the grimy little Philadelphia diner. For the past week she had taken a few small meals a day there, hoping a generous waiter or pitying stranger would help cover her cost, and somebody always came to her rescue. But luck and the compassion of strangers would sustain her in this hardened part of town for just so long.

Sometimes she begged for money. She'd use her meager earnings to find shelter, even if it was crowded, cold, or riddled with vermin. That summed up all of the motels she'd called home for the last few weeks, and even the streets seemed preferable at times. But something inside of her told her not to give up. Told her that if she believed enough in her own unfounded faith, she would not only survive her situation, but one day _thrive_.

Today she was not feeling particularly hopeful.

She hadn't taken a proper bath in almost a week. The water at her latest motel would run for a good two minutes or so before it turned rusty. She was pretty sure even the flies would be repulsed by her in her current state.

She stared down at the dregs of her coffee like a fortune teller divining tea leaves. There had to be an answer out there. Some force of happenstance that would whisk her away from all her worries.

As if on instinct, she looked over to her left and inadvertently made eye contact with a fellow restaurant patron. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, tentatively. He got up from his seat and crossed the room to her.

The man tipped his hat. "You're just the kind of girl I'm looking for," he said. Maggie examined him carefully. Pencil-thin mustache stretching over a charming smile. Eyes that seemed kind enough, but that could have just as well been hiding a million secrets in their depths. If he wasn't the portrait of a potential snake oil salesman, then nobody was.

Maggie gulped. Was _this_ the answer the universe was sending her way? A smarmy stranger to whom she would sell her body? What frightened her most was that she didn't consider the task beneath her anymore.

"I… I've never done this kind of thing before," she said, looking about her nervously.

The man raised an eyebrow. "No?"

Maggie shook her head.

"You mean to tell me that you've never exploited a man's undying lust for female flesh?"

Maggie's face turned beet red. She really wished he would just lead her back to his motel room or an alleyway and get this over with. Preferably without any further words exchanged.

"Because let me tell you," he continued, much to her chagrin, "just from looking at you, I can see that you're a wellspring of potential in that department."

"Can we just get this over with, mister?" asked Maggie. "All I wanna do is make a quick buck so I don't have to sleep out on the street tonight."

"Sweetie, sweetie, you mistake me. Do I really come across as some old john?" He laughed. "No, no, no. I'm talking about you going into business with me."

Maggie blinked. "What… sort of business?"

He leaned in close and whispered, "I mean the business of robbing people blind."

Maggie tried to collect her thoughts. She had no idea who this man was or what kind of work he did. If she declined his offer, there was a chance she'd be back to square one and, more than likely, end up in a stranger's bed tonight.

"And why exactly do you need me?" she asked.

"Why does any old fart need arm candy?" he replied with a chuckle. "Listen, I fare pretty well on my own, but your pretty face will do a much better job of lulling people into a false sense of security. Gentlemen, especially."

"So we're talking… conning?" she asked. "Not any actual, you know, robbing?"

"Sure, 'conning'," he said. "I'm not too keen on that word, personally. It betrays a lack of artistry. To do what I do, you have to be a flawless performer."

"So why didn't you just go into acting, then?"

He smirked. "My dear, the thrill of the theatre is nothing compared to what I do."

Maggie smiled back. "I'm sure."

The man extended his hand to her. "I'm Stanley, by the way."

"Stanley who?"

"I believe for now 'Stanley' will suffice. And you are?"

Maggie placed her hand in his. "Maggie. Just 'Maggie'."

"Fair enough." He planted a delicate kiss upon her hand. "Oh, and if it makes you feel any safer, you're not exactly… my type." He stared at the well-shaped bottom of a gentleman walking by. "If you catch my drift."

Well, _damn_. Not only was Maggie now in cahoots with a con artist, but with a _poof_ as well. She couldn't believe the surreality of it all.

"That does ease my mind a bit, truth be known," she said.

"Good to hear," said Stanley. "But don't think my preferences will bar me from treating you like a lady. Waiter!" He snapped his fingers and pointed at the near-empty cup of coffee in front of Maggie. "You'd better keep that coffee coming or so help me god, I will jump over this counter and make you wish you'd finished night school. And bring the lady a big, heaping plate of French toast."

Maggie tried to hide the grin that was blossoming on her lips. This looked like the beginning of a beautiful friendship.


End file.
